Glory’s story (age 63)

Transcript

“When I was 15 years old I ran away from home and I had a friend whose mother was a foreman in a factory that made the valves for tires, the air valves, and she got us all in there working making that plastic spray can stuff. It was a job that they had to be 18 but that was my first experience with work. That was work. My second job after that was working for a Fig Newton cookie making company, on a conveyor belt. That was crazy.

My parents were really… they kept important adult things to themselves, they didn’t put on the children that we don’t have money for this or we don’t have money for that. I never heard, I never heard them arguing about it either. I never gave it any thought growing up and it’s only when I look back that I realize that I grew up in a fantasy world. I wasn’t introduced to the purpose of money, or the priority of money. Everything was taken care of for us by my parents.

I know my father worked he was the vice president of an organization. My mother brought in a paycheck, she worked as many hours as he did but at a much lower rate of pay. She didn’t have to work, she worked because she wanted to. Or at least that’s what I thought, it may not be the truth. My father had a phenomenal work ethic and that got transferred to us too; that no matter how you feel, you get up and you do what you have to do. You could be sick at work as well as you could be sick at home. Only it’s not as profitable to be sick at home. He instilled that value in both of his children. I still will make myself get up and work through something or commitment that I have even when I’m ill. It’s rare that I’d allow an illness to put me down. I think we were taught good work ethics. We weren’t taught to work but we were taught the ethics by example.

Saturday’s was house cleaning day, and we had our chores to do, and drinking day. My father would get up early and he’d drink all day long. Until he’d pass out. My mother drank a lot then too. So, typical for us was usually playing in the house sometimes we were allowed to play outside with the other kids. They kept us secluded from society, because that was their belief. Kids were to be seen and not heard. Typical weekend for me, after I got a little older, was really stressful to make it from Friday to Monday without being hit or degregated, downgraded but I don’t know what that word means, shamed. The more my father drank the more I would hide. I would stay out of notice.

I don’t recall a conversation about what I would grow up to be. I don’t recall any reference to what the future would be, you go to school and you marry well. That was the idea, consequently I got married well four times. College wasn’t even a… I never heard that growing up. I never had any idea that there were colleges, and by the time I was college ready I was convinced I was stupid. My parents did not reinforce education at all. A lot of it was because they figured ‘You’re a girl, you’re gonna get married, it’s ok you don’t need a brain.

I had four elective surgeries on my legs and it took a long time to heal from that and by the end of that time I didn’t have anywhere to live. I couldn’t. It was impossible to get into a place to live because everything was so expensive. Your credit history is a big part of it, my lack of understanding was enormous. I had no clue. It was frightening, most of the time it was pretty frightening. I managed to not put myself into too many bad situations. I’d sleep all day somewhere, and stay up all night cause it’s cold at night and if you’re moving around you don’t get cold. I was always afraid of what would happen in the dark, I am still afraid of the dark.

Interviewer: “Do you find it hard to make ends meet?”

Glory: “Meet? I can’t even get them to wave at each other. I pay my bills taht I have to pay and then I get through the month. Ends meet because I eat at my daughter’s house or I work a tillte menial job for a small compensation. For a long time I recycled until I found this organization… Can I say that? Who it is?… Downtown Streets Team. It’s an organization that was designed for people like me who were homeless wanting to get back into society and they pay us a stipend, they pay us five dollars an hour for volunteer work beautifying the city and it’s a work program, a work readiness program. They help you re-enter society and go back to work, actually get jobs.

I got really lucky. I got really lucky. I got chosen for a program that Obama had created to house 10 million people in the United States, and I am one of those 10 million. Going from the shelter to my own apartment was… the key members of the program walked with me every inch, they brought my groceries, they brought my furniture. Without asking for it I had incredible support my first year and in fact my counselor from that first year became the director of the program. He had his heart in it. He was at my house every week, even if I wouldn’t answer the door he would still come and knock. Every week, and he would encourage me and gradually I learned to trust him, I learned to tell him that I had done something wrong. He directed me how to get out of it, how to handle it, how to resolve it.

By the end of my first year they had me do a speaking engagement with the board of directors for that program and the last thing I said was my counselor had been telling me to go some place, I was someplace, I had not been some place for so long that I was someplace, I was home. And I didn’t want to go anywhere else, I am someplace.”

This story was gathered by interviewer Laura Wales and edited by Scott Cairns.

E.V.’s Story (age 62)

 I Never Had a Lot of Money, Mija
We lived in migrant camps in Morgan Hill.
We picked prunes, tomatoes.
Our home was a shack in the alley,
it was falling apart but my dad fixed it up.

My dad passed away
and I had to stop school because I had to take care of my mom.
It’s a miracle that I know how to read and write a little bit,
but reading is hard for me. 
I regret them taking me out of school.

One of my first jobs was cleaning with Mira maids.
My first day
they told me to clean the living room.
I tell her I’m finished and she goes back and sees, 
She tells me it was wrong. 
She says, “you have to do straight lines on the carpets.”
I was embarrassed because they cleaned the whole thing and I just did two rooms.
They were too fast for me. 
That was the worst job I’ve ever done.

I admit it
we didn’t have nothing, nothing when my kids were little.
After I separated from my husband, 
we lived in a little station wagon. 
I had five kids.

My oldest daughter used to hang out with people in gangs.
I would go get her wherever she was at 
and she would put up a fight, let me tell you.
A mother should teach them right from wrong. 
I would always tell my kids, “I love you so much.”

I pray to God every night
that my kids never do drugs, never do drugs,
because I see people that can’t put it down.

All my kids went through something,
but they all finished school and even have a good job. 
I don’t have to worry about them now.

I thank God every day
my kids are doing OK,
I’m still alive.
I tell my girls,
“always be thankful.”

A car hit me 10 years ago.
I lived in the hospital for two weeks.
They cut my forehead all the way down. 
They put my nose back together again.
Now I am really slow in talking. 
I say things over and over,
I wonder, “did I say that again?”

I get social security now.
I have a little room that I pay too much for. 
I go to eat at the churches, 
because I can’t cook at my place. 
My daughters say, “why don’t you come and live with us?” 
But I don’t want to be a burden.

It’s hard for me. 
I can’t buy things. 
I find things in the back of Goodwill,
take them and wash them.
I’m not able to buy what I want to buy.

But I thank God that I can get by. 

People say, “look at that person, they were driving a new car,” 
I’m glad for them. 
I have nothing to say because they work for it
and they deserve it.

This story was gathered by interviewer Loris Romero and edited by Carol Owendro.